


Striking Grace

by Sheshaventures



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fix-It, Gen, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheshaventures/pseuds/Sheshaventures
Summary: Heroes are meant to do good, are meant to always choose the right thing. But killing a man as he screams for help, begs to live, is that really the right thing?Have mercy, have grace.





	Striking Grace

**Author's Note:**

> In the Japanese voice acting of the cutscene where the Warrior of Light destroys Nabriales, he goes from taunting to begging for his life. It's a wonderfully acted scene, and he's extremely emotional for the delivery, practically in tears. That inspired this, because would a hero, THE Hero, kill a man pleading to live?
> 
> This is dedicated especially to a certain someone, you know exactly who you are.

It was with horror and bitter sadness that the Warrior of Light, helpless, could do nothing but watch as Moenbryda stretched out her hand, fingers reaching even as she limped, making contact with the stream of raging aether that Tupsimati channeled. The voice of the Ascian - Nabriales - still rang in her ears, taunts and threats despite his imprisonment. To the side, Minfilia's prayer to Hydaelyn remained unanswered, her pleading growing desperate, finally noticing the Roegadyn woman's approach.

Moenbryda, with a last smile, vanished into a burst of light that tinkled like broken glass over Minfilia's cries for her to stop. The stream of aether, swollen in size, became that much more of a torrent, and the Warrior-

Paused.

Because another voice rang once more in her ears. A man, one who even moments ago was so assured in his own power, yet Nabriales was no longer taunting. No puffed up display of bravado, no snide words to give. No.

The man was _ begging _ for life. Pleading, fervent cries spilling from the very same lips that worked incantations against her such a short time ago. There was none to hear him but herself and Minfilia, now, and yet still the Ascian cried out for help. She could hear his breaths heave with each sobbing gasp, the terror evident in every word, practically in _ tears _ for how frightened the man seemed to be.

"Please, I don't want to die!"

Tupsimati vibrated in her hands, drawn back, ready to destroy him in the very next moment, but she hesitated.

"What are you doing, Hero, you need to finish this!" the Antecedent's imploring words barely reached her. All she could focus on were those cries, growing more and more frantic the more she did nothing. A helpless man, begging for his life?

She could not kill him.

It wasn't _ right. _

The head of the staff was lowered and the flood of aether soon ceased, but that pulse, the flash of life given by Moenbryda lingered, and the Champion took the chance for what it was. All of who she was remained, after all, and so Tupsimati was used, instead of destroying, to _ create - _ within moments the prone form of the Sharlayan lay sprawled upon the ground. Though unconscious, she breathed, and Moenbryda would _ live. _ There had been enough deaths, the Warrior decided, then and there.

Crystal clattered to the floor, rolling, the auracite now empty, followed by a larger figure. Nabriales made for a sight as he tumbled to the ground in a heap, struggling to bring himself to one knee, still gasping for breath. His mask and hood were askew from the fall, and the brown hair and youthful face of his host struck the Hero - was he _ truly _a horrid villain? By his own words, he had not moved to attack but to defend himself, first and second against Moenbryda as she attacked, and finally against the Warrior herself as she chased him into that rift.

He had never harmed her other friend, despite being quite able to prior to her arrival in that strange place, stealing her away merely because she would not relinquish the staff. This thought streaked through her mind like a flare, but as it did the Ascian gave a yelp - a whimper - of alarm, immediately bringing her attention back into focus.

Minfilia, auracite in hand, took a step towards the crumpled Ascian, but the Warrior was ever faster. Crouching over Nabriales, with her weapon discarded, the hero bodily covered the shaking man. There was an almost imperceptible flinch from him at the contact, but she leaned over the Ascian anyway - an almost embrace, protective in nature. The Antecedent's eyes grew wide and she drew back slightly at the display.

"Why are you protecting him, he is an Ascian, he is evil!" Minifila sounded shocked beyond comprehension. "He must be destroyed!" Another threatening step, white crystal raised.

"You don't kill a man begging for his life, no matter what he's done," the words are spoken without hesitation, and the Warrior _ feels _ Nabriales freeze beneath her. "Unless you want to be a bigger monster than he ever could."

Blue eyes widen further, mouth open, yet no words come forth. More gently, the Hero implores her friend once more. "It's 'for those we may yet save,' isn’t it? For what's right." with a pointed glance at Moenbryda, who had begun to stir slightly. "Murdering a helpless man isn't _ good _ . It can never _ be _ good."

Finally, the auracite is lowered and Minfilia's shoulders droop.

As the sigh of relief rushes out of the Champion, however, there is the telltale sound of that shadowy rift being used once more - heralding the arrival of one of Nabriales' kind. Before she is able to tense up, however, a white robed figure steps into her vision.

_ White _ robes. Elidibus, then. She straightens up, remaining wary, but not readying herself for combat. He was true to his word last time, after all.

The Emissary steps in between where the Warrior, still maintaining her defensive posture over Nabriales, and the Scions, turning that beaked mask to look down at the still crouched Ascian. A few beats pass, before he turns back towards the others, Minfilia in particular.

But his words are not for her, "You have upheld the balance this day, Warrior of Light."

"I did what was right, nothing more," she cannot keep the exhaustion from her voice - the day had been long indeed. Beneath her, Nabriales shifts, and she makes to stand and step back.

There is no longer any hint of the harrowing experience on the black-robed Ascian's form. He stands, cowl and mask once more in their proper positions, mouth set in a thin line.

"What is right and what maintains equilibrium between Light and Dark are, at times, one and the same," the smooth tones of Elidibus' voice continued on. He turns, then, to look towards the Hero. "Perhaps we may yet see eye to eye, Champion."

The Emissary inclines his head, before turning and disappearing as quickly as he came. In truth, the appearance baffled her tired mind, and when she recovered she was sure to dwell on it until an answer was revealed. She was not, however, too distracted to fail to keep an eye on Nabriales. He was staring at her, she could imagine his host's eyes boring into hers from behind that red mask. Had she not been watching, however, she would have missed the almost imperceptible nod, barely there, before he too vanished in darkness. A curious acknowledgement.

Moenbryda was pushing herself up onto her hands, groaning, asking questions, but Minfilia was there to go to her side. She would help their injured friend, and the Warrior could rest. Stepping back to lean against the wall and slide down, half sitting, half reclining against the stone, she allowed her eyes to close. There would be answers to give, consequences to face, but for now she was tired.

But she smiled anyway, because she had done something good today.

For those we may yet save, and she had saved two this day.

_ Everything else could wait. _

  


**Author's Note:**

> This can absolutely be read as a sort of prelude to my other work Majesty's Mercy, as a sort of set-up to how that arrangement and relationship came into being.
> 
> I also desperately wanted to save him.


End file.
